


Beginning of the End

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: He was supposed to come to her. Pre-game.





	Beginning of the End

Yomiel was nervous. Wasn’t he? The thoughts were there. He knew there was meant to be more. Last time his hands clenched against shaking as the detective’s sharp eyes bore into him. His mouth dried around his protests against the onslaught of words that sounded too casual for all the threat they held. His hand felt slippery around the metal as he grabbed for his chance to escape. To get out, to just get away.

Now he felt… calm? Was that how he really felt under the worried thoughts? He knew the real answer, but addressing it just yet wasn’t… necessary.

What would Sissel think? Exactly how long had he been gone? Was it his sense of time that had grown muddled or the cat’s? Did she know? How much did she know?

He was here. She was just inside, past this door. He would explain… somehow. They would be together. Everything would be better. But, what would she think?

There were too many thoughts for the stillness of his heart.

He gripped the door and the whirlwind of thoughts calmed. Just get to Sissel.

“Sissel!” he called when he entered. Why was it so quiet? Why was it dark?

He made his way through the house until he came to the kitchen and fumbled for a light switch. Maybe she wasn’t home, but the door was unlocked.

“Sissel? Sissel, it’s Yomiel…”

The light was harsh and glaring on the sight before him. A trail of blood along the clean tiling. A trail to…

“Sissel, no.”

He approached slowly, willing the sight to be anything else until he crashed down beside her still body. He gripped her shoulder. This wasn’t her face. She was too pale. This wasn’t her. She was too still, too quiet, too wrong in a world that was all wrong.

“Sissel. Sissel, please. Talk to me. Say something, anything. Please…”

A paper caught his eye and he reached mindlessly for it. Words that made less and less sense jumped out at him.

_…coming for you, Yomiel._

Coming? For him?

“No… I came for you. I was supposed to come for you! I’m here, Sissel. Wake up.”

He slammed a hand into the floor. “Wake up!”

Too still and only he had been cursed to rise again. He slowly stood, still staring down at her. He wanted to cry, but he had no tears.

He backed away into the wall. Trapped again, his eyes still fixed on her body. Why was he always trapped? He stood, frozen, until the sight became too unbearable and again he fled. Again, he ran from something that should never have happened.

He stopped outside. The distant sound of traffic filled his ears. A stray breeze blew, only noticed for the leaves it stirred. A pair walked past, talking cheerfully by their tone.

What was it he really felt? Nothing.


End file.
